


Class Act

by manic_intent



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fallout kink meme collection, Mistaken Identity, PWP, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I still don’t see any kidnappers,” Nora hissed at Nick when she found him backstage, poking thoughtfully around a storage room. </p><p>“Well, what d’you think,” Nick said dryly, “They gonna show up with the words ‘KIDNAPPER’ tattooed on their foreheads? A girl’s been going missing every <i>week</i>. Either they’re being nabbed here at work somehow, or when they’re out, ah, on call.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Class Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Maxson buys a prostitute who happens to be F!SS in disguise (undercover)

“I still don’t see any kidnappers,” Nora hissed at Nick when she found him backstage, poking thoughtfully around a storage room. 

“Well, what d’you think,” Nick said dryly, “They gonna show up with the words ‘KIDNAPPER’ tattooed on their foreheads? A girl’s been going missing every _week_. Either they’re being nabbed here at work somehow, or when they’re out, ah, on call.”

“They should cough up for some security,” Nora grumbled. 

“I know. I’ve told Esta that Ralphy isn’t enough for this place. But she keeps saying she don’t wanna hurt his feelings.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “It’s either she hurts his precious little feelings or she keeps losing girls. Now c’mon. Let’s get out of here,” she said hopefully. “This sparkly black dress is itchy and the amount of cleavage and leg it’s showing is drafty as hell.” There was rather _too_ much of the ‘little’ in this little black dress. That’d teach her for borrowing clothes off Magnolia. Even the silver mask borrowed off Esta was starting to itch. Nora never knew that she could miss road leathers _this_ much. 

“Okay,” Nick relented, then he peered behind Nora’s shoulder, yellow eyes flaring as Esta clattered up behind them, the tall blonde woman flushed with excitement, her short hair sticking to her cheeks, one of the straps nearly pushed off her spangled green dress. 

“Nick! Nora! There you are,” Esta hissed. “Sera’s gone!”

“What d’you mean… she was gonna be up next to perform, wasn’t she?” Nick looked over in the direction of the stage. “Dressing room was _packed_.” 

“She was! But she went to the bathroom and now she’s gone! And she’s up to go on stage _right now_.” 

“All right Esta, calm down,” Nora said soothingly. “This just happened, so, Nick and I will check the bathrooms and-“

“We’ve got a full house tonight,” Esta cut in, agitated. “Nora, you were singing along to Sera’s song during rehearsal this afternoon, and you were pretty good. Could you do me a really big favour? Please?” 

“Absolutely not,” Nora scowled.

“Just one song. Please.” 

“We-ell,” Nick hedged. “I’m going to have to look for clues. If I run into the kidnappers there’d be a shoot-out so you can hop off to find me if that happens.” 

“Traitor,” Nora glared at him. “Fine. I’ll help. One song.” 

Out on stage, the crowd was already getting restless, and Sammy at the piano blinked at Nora in surprise, then started up the opening bars to the song as Nora took a deep breath, plastered on her best smile, and tried to pretend that she was back in college, before the world had died, when singing came easier, and joy was a little less of an afterthought. 

“What a _dog_ …” Nora purred into the mike, imitating Sera - God, she hoped that girl was all right. “He’s a tramp, but they love him… breaks a new heart, every day-“ 

Sadly there was no sudden shootout, and Nora even started to enjoy herself halfway through the song - at least until she recognised a very familiar face near the back of the dive, and nearly fell off the stage in shock. It was Arthur-fucking- _Maxson_ , sitting by himself, and he had swapped his coat for a more unassuming black jacket. He was staring at her with a laser focus that Nora had only seen before if the keywords ‘Institute’ or ‘synth’ were mentioned in his presence, and somehow, she managed to get through the rest of the song without mumbling through the rest of the words. 

Where could she run? Backstage? Sammy started up a few hopeful bars to the next song, and abruptly, viciously, Nora decided to enjoy herself. Fuck the Brotherhood. And Nick. And the asshole kidnappers making off with people. “I was five an’ he was six,” Nora drawled, leaning against the piano. “We rode on horses made of sticks… he wore black and I wore white… He would always win the fight-“ she mimed a gun with her fingers, aiming at Maxson with a sharp grin. “ _Bang bang_ , he shot me down-“ 

Two songs became three, and then Nora lost count. She did see the working girls try to sidle up to Maxson more than once: for all that the boy had a phenomenal number of scowl lines at his age, he _was_ a cut more handsome than the usual clients. However, he turned them down each time, brusquely, still staring at her. Judgmental prick. Before Nora knew it she had wrapped for the night at Esta’s signal, and as she sashayed off the stage, she blew a kiss over at Maxson, defiant to the last, exiting in a smattering of applause. Maxson stayed stone-still, his hands on his knees. 

“Wow girl,” Esta said, impressed, as she handed Nora a glass of water. “You were _incredible_.” 

“Where’s Nick?”

“He said that the leads were cold, he’s out checking something and will be back. Also, he said that it looked like you were enjoying ourself out there.” 

“I used to sing at bars during college,” Nora said, with an embarrassed smile. “For a bit of extra cash.”

“Well, you saved my ass,” Esta said warmly, “And when you and Nick find those kidnappers-“

“Esta!” It was one of the girls, Julia, breathless and grinning. “Esta, you won’t believe this. But one of the customers out there just asked for Nora here.” 

Nora pulled a face, even as Esta sighed. “Julia-“

“I know. I told him she was a Special Case,” Julia giggled, “And she don’t just take up with anyone, and you won’t believe this, but he offered to pay _three hundred caps._ ”

Esta’s eyebrows shot up. That was more than three times the premium rate, if Nora recalled… and… now she had a sinking feeling… “Julia… which guy was this…?”

“The really hot one near the door with the scar on his cheek.” Julia said promptly, and sobered up quickly when she saw Nora’s face. “Hey… you know this guy? Is he bad news? I could get Ralphy in on this.” 

“Ralphy’s not going to be able to even scratch him, I think.” Nora said, resigned. “Okay. Joke’s over. I’ll go talk to him.”

“Why, who is he?” Esta asked, worried now. “If you want, you could sneak out back and… Julia and I will make excuses. We could go find Nick-” 

“He’s uh… he’s my boss, in a way,” Nora said sheepishly. “This is going to be a really awkward meeting so uh. Could I borrow a room?” 

“Ah.” Esta coughed. “Well… second floor, room to the left of the steps - that’s our premium room, so it’s usually not used and looks respectable. I’ll get Julia to send him up there.” 

Esta had gone to some effort decking out the ‘premium room’. A bed with red sheets, of all things, dominated the chamber, and a ratty maroon carpet covered the creaking wooden floor. There was a large mirror facing the bed, full-length, and a dresser that, on closer inspection, was full of… creatively made implements… that Nora was _fairly sure_ couldn’t be quite that hygienic. There was also a fire hazard in the form of candles at the desk, and the whole effect of the room rather reminded Nora of an exploded steak of some sort. _Such_ red. 

Nora didn’t have long to wait. There was a heavy step by the door, and then Maxson let himself in, closing the door behind him as he did so. Nora straightened up. If she was going to get a dressing down for Doing Things Unbecoming Of A Brotherhood Knight, then she was going to come out swinging first. “Three hundred caps, huh?” Hmm. Singing six songs in a row hadn’t been good for her throat. Her voice was weirdly husky - going hoarse.

To Nora’s shock, Maxson looked her slowly up and down, his gaze lingering over her breasts and hips before tracking back up, and instead of launching into the expected lecture he said evenly, “So far it seems worthwhile to me.” 

Holy shit. 

He didn’t recognise her.

Nora took in a deep breath, fighting between sheer amusement and sheer disbelief. Before she could think of something to say though, Maxson added, “I’ll prefer the mask to stay on.” 

“Sure, big boy,” Nora purred, fighting down mirth. “What else do you like?” She was never going to let Maxson live this down. 

“I don’t like being teased,” Maxson said, and strode over before Nora could say anything, pulling her roughly up against him. Stumbling, Nora had to brace herself against Maxson’s shoulders to keep her balance, though she hastily slapped a hand against his mouth when he bent to kiss her. 

“Going a little fast here, aren’t we?” Nora drawled, though she could feel her heart rate pick up. Under her hand, against her, Maxson felt like he was solid muscle. 

“I’ve paid,” Maxson pointed out, annoyed, grasping her wrist and tugging her hand off his mouth. 

“If you’re looking for a quick fuck you probably could’ve saved some money and picked one of the floor girls,” Nora shot back. “I like to do things my way.” 

Instead of getting pissed off, the flush on Maxson’s cheeks deepened, and Nora could - what the hell - now feel an erection pressing against her hip. Okay. This was maybe going a little too far, even for a joke. Nora pulled her wrist out of Maxson’s grip. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she began, but his hands dropped to her hips, kneading.

“I have more caps.”

“You sure know how to sweet talk a lady,” Nora said sardonically, but again, instead of getting annoyed, Maxson merely smirked and leaned in, at which point lust and sheer curiosity proceeded to shove Nora’s self-respect and survival instinct clean off the premises, because she let him kiss her.

Whoever had taught Maxson to kiss had done a bad job of it. He was impatient and rough and this was nothing like how kissing Nate had been, the both of them mad about each other and tender and in love. There was nothing to _this_ but lust, and yet Nora slipped her arms around Maxson’s shoulders, and groaned against his mouth as he cupped a hand around one of her breasts, through the sheer fabric of the stupid little dress, kneading. 

“You’re lucky that you’re hot,” Nora told him breathlessly, when they broke for air, and Maxson made a low, barking sound that Nora belatedly identified as laughter. 

Holy shit. 

Maxson just laughed.

The world was ending after all, Nora decided. “I haven’t heard that one before,” Maxson muttered. 

“I see you’ve only met people with no taste so far then,” Nora said dryly. “Bad luck. Good thing for you that you met me.” 

Maxson bit out a moan at this - weird - and… hell. Out for a penny, in for a pound. Nora walked Maxson back until she pushed him down against the bed, climbing into his lap and kicking off her borrowed heels. Clearly self-control was a distant memory now. Maxson hauled her closer to kiss her, his touch gentler now, maybe because he was close to getting what he wanted, and Nora could feel how hard he was against her as she rubbed her ass against him, the hem of the dress rucking up high on her hips, her white panties starkly visible between her dress and his breeches. 

“Let me-“ Maxson began, his tone strangled.

“Only if you make it worth my time, big boy,” Nora drawled, and Maxson choked off another moan, rolling them around, until Nora was on her back, dress bunched up to her hips, and Maxson was _mouthing her through her panties_ , what the fuck, hitching up her hips with seemingly no effort at all. At the strangled sound Nora made, Maxson laughed against her, warm and wet, and tugged off her underwear, tossing it off the bed before lifting her hips up again to go to town, no finesse whatsoever, curling his tongue inside her, sucking at her folds, eating her out like there was nothing more that he’d rather be doing. Nora silently offered thanks to whomever in the Brotherhood had broken in Maxson like this, her fingers stuffed in her mouth to stifle her cries. He slowed when Nora was punched off her first peak, choking down Maxson’s name only barely, but stopped only when she grabbed for his hair, urging him up. 

“Worth your time so far?” Maxson growled, and it took Nora a long, dazed moment to recall context. 

Then she smirked at him, and pointedly spread her legs. “I don’t think we’re done yet, are we?” 

Maxson cursed as he struggled with his boots, then with his breeches, fingers faltering on the hem as Nora teasingly fingered herself, stretching herself out, slipping her fingers in and out of her wet pussy, stroking her folds. When he climbed up on top of her again and kissed her, Nora bit him on the lip to mark him, hard enough that he stifled a yelp, jerking back. Glaring at her, Maxson grabbed her wrist, and kept eye contact as he sucked her fingers clean, smug again as Nora hissed and wrapped her legs pointedly around his waist, _pulling_. When he thrust into her, they both cried out. 

Though Maxson did wait for Nora to adjust - God, it had been a while - once she nodded and ground down against him, he grabbed her hips and held her steady as he drove into her, wildly, his eyes squeezed shut, breaths in harsh gasps. Nora hung on to the bed, keening, knowing that they were probably loud enough that _everyone_ in Working Girl and possibly Diamond City beyond knew what they were up to. Hell, where had _Maxson_ gotten this much practice? Were there some wild Brotherhood parties that Nora wasn’t privy to? She tried to slip fingers between them, but Maxson pinned her wrists to the bed, taking her harder, until he abruptly pulled out, gasping as he spilled into the bed between Nora’s thighs. 

Ha. Not quite into continuing the dynasty yet, then. Nora was about to make some sort of quip, but then Maxson had his hand between her thighs, stroking her, slipping in two fingers in a rough sort of possessive intimacy, and somehow, that was enough; she rocked down against his fingers as she wailed his name. “ _Arthur!_ ” 

Only after Nora caught her breath did she realize that Maxson had frozen, staring at her with a new light, and it took a moment longer before her mistake dawned on her, after which all she could do was start laughing. Scowling, Maxson dragged off her mask, then he glared at Nora as she just laughed harder. 

“What are you _doing_ here?” Maxson hissed. “In a… in a place like this? Working?”

Through sheer effort, Nora somehow managed to swallow a second bubble of laughter. “Well sir,” she said, with as straight a face as she could manage, “Being a Knight doesn’t seem to come with a salary-“ At Maxson’s look of horror, Nora burst into laughter again. Furious, Maxson tried to get up, but hastily Nora pulled him back down, on his elbows above her, grinning wickedly. “Only joking. I was doing a favour for the madam. Some of the girls have been kidnapped. Had to stand in for one of them and then I saw you at the back and I thought you just picked me out to lecture me.”

“I… I see.” Maxson’s expression had run the gamut of anger to embarrassment, which was, Nora decided, funny as hell after all. 

“So what,” Nora inquired archly, “Why else did you offer to pay three hundred caps, huh?” 

Stiffly, Maxson said, “You could have just removed your mask when we were alone.” 

“Maybe I was a little curious,” Nora conceded. “And besides, technically, I was undercover. Do you usually come to places like this?” she added, amused. “Because what with being who you are, I’m sure that aboard the Prydwen-“

“I’m not interested in fraternising.” 

“Yeah, and that’s why you wanted me to leave the mask on, hm?” 

“… you’ve made your point,” Maxson noted, still as stiff as ever, and Nora relented, leaning up to kiss him, having to press her mouth against thinned lips for a while until he yielded, if gruffly. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” he admitted, when they parted for breath.

“Could’ve said something.”

“It never seemed appropriate-”

“Tell you what, _Elder_ ,” Nora tipped up his chin. “We’ve got this room for the whole night and I think my partner’s off chasing his own leads. How about you convince me that it’s worth my while to visit the Prydwen more often?” 

“Consider it done,” Maxson growled, and reached for the zipper at the back of her dress.


	2. Altered Scales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fluff

I.

“Nora, I don’t know if you’re aware of this,” Deacon said very seriously, during dinner, after they had flown out from the Prydwen to Sunshine Co Op, “But I think that Elder Maxson guy wants you to have his babies.” 

Across the loose semicircle that Nora and the others made around the crackling bonfire, Danse spat a mouthful of soup out over the fire, and ended up coughing and choking so much that Nora had to slap him on the back. Thankfully, the Paladin wasn’t wearing his power armour, or it would’ve been futile. 

“Thanks for just… letting that out into the open, Deacon.”

“No seriously,” Deacon said brightly, archly oblivious to Danse’s strangled gasping. “I was just up on that great big metal phallic symbol with you, though in a totally platonic way of course, us anyway, and you popped by the Semicircle Office to talk to His Nibs, and, speaking as a dude here, I can tell a hundred per cent whenever another dude wants to bang someone for the sake of babies.”

“I’m not going to listen to this,” Danse said coldly, getting up from the bonfire with his bowl and stalking off towards his shack. 

“ _I_ wanna listen to this,” Hancock disagreed, leaning forward and grinning. 

“Is this Maxson guy hot?” Cait inquired, suspicious. “Otherwise, y’know, ye just hafta knife him inna balls. They stop humpin’ yer leg right quick after that.”

It was Nora’s turn to start coughing. “Oh, he’s absolutely hot,” Deacon nodded sagely. “But sadly also an asshole. That’s what you get for spending all your time inside a giant metal flying dick.” 

“Deacon!” Nora hissed, but Hancock laughed out loud, and even MacCready smirked, sprawled on the grass and on his second bowl of noodles. 

“Does look like a dick,” Cait conceded, smirking. “Aww boss, you’re turning _reaaal_ red there.” 

Nora glanced at Nick, but Nick was pointedly pretending to stir the large pot of soup, ignoring them all. Good. “Well,” Nora said firmly. “Maxson is hot, yes, and I need his help, but if you think I’m going to have a baby without pre-apocalyptic paediatric facilities you’ve got another think coming, Deacon.” 

“Just saying. Didn’t say you should do it. Definitely shouldn’t, actually. Though,” Deacon added, “If you guys get married and then break up, do you get half of the giant metal dick? Or do you guys split down even? If so, you should try to get that huge-ass fortress in the Capital Wasteland. Location, location.”

“Oh my God,” Nora slapped a hand over her face. 

“Guess you know better, since you’re a lawyer and all. By the way, count me unsurprised that the one person to get unfrozen into the future turns out to be a lawyer. Fate, right?” 

“How come _you_ know what lawyers are?” Nick inquired. 

“There’s lawyers in _Shakespeare_ ,” Deacon pointed out loftily, at which point he started arguing with MacCready over something or other and thankfully the conversation drifted off elsewhere. 

Later that evening, to Nora’s irritation, Danse knocked awkwardly on her door and peered in as she sat on the floor, cleaning out Righteous Authority. “Hey Danse,” she said warily. “Something up?” 

Danse was never one for small talk. “Deacon was out of line.” 

“That’s just Deacon. He doesn’t mean any harm.” 

“I’ve told him off, but I don’t think that he will be remorseful.”

“Probably not,” Nora agreed, amused now. 

Besides, Deacon’s instincts weren’t exactly off the mark. Since the incident in Working Girl, Nora had actually felt embarrassed about it all, and had avoided the Prydwen until she’d had to pop by to pass some technical documents to Quinlan, and it wasn’t as though she could just sneak past the main command deck with Deacon mouthing off left and right behind her. Maxson had been carefully polite as she greeted him, but his eyes had wandered.

“However,” Danse said uncomfortably, “I think his observations were not entirely off the mark. I… ah, noticed, the first time aboard the Prydwen… the way the Elder was… I think he would never abuse his authority, and you shouldn’t feel remotely obliged in any way…” 

Nora let Danse stumble his way into an embarrassed silence, highly amused now, her lips twitching, and finally, when he sighed, she said, very dryly, “Danse, you don’t need to worry about defending my honor or virtue, all right? You _did_ give me your rifle.”

Danse looked visibly relieved. “I just feel responsible as your sponsor. And. I’ve had the privilege to have been a friend of the Elder for years. Sometimes men and women in the Brotherhood do try to, ah, get closer to him and. He doesn’t like that. So you don’t have to worry,” he finished, lamely. “But if you ever have any concerns, you can always speak to me.“

Nora let Danse sweat for a while, hiding her grin with some effort. “Thanks, Danse,” she said finally, when she was fairly sure that Danse had suffered enough. “I appreciate it.”

“Good. Ah. Carry on, Knight.” 

Nora shook her head slowly as Danse retreated. Soldier boys. She never seemed to be able to get free of them.

II.

Whenever Nora needed some peace and quiet, she went to Kellogg’s house. It sat empty now anyway, given the violent death of its owner, and she had the keys, so why not? It wasn’t as though anyone was using it anyway, and Kellogg had kept it neat and even installed plumbing. 

Nora had disposed of all the children’s toys she had found within it - they were too painful to look at - and had furnished it with some curios that she had found in the wastelands instead. A nice, small painting of a cat she had found in an abandoned house several blocks from Goodneighbor. A set of old vinyls that were probably too scratched to be playable, though Nora had hopes of finding a record player sometime. She left the radio on to Diamond City’s channel as she dusted the house, singing to herself. Maybe it was denial. But if Nora closed her eyes, here, alone, she could let her guard down. 

“Heaven… I’m in heaven-“

She could pretend that 2077 had never happened. The bombs hadn’t dropped. Or she hadn’t yet had a baby. Or she was back in law school, prepping for a moot. Back in college, singing her heart out at a bar, winking at a young soldier- 

“Heaven, I’m in heaven-“ Nate had loved this song. “And the cares that hung around me through the week… seem to vanish like a gambler’s lucky str- _aaa!_ ” Twirling around, Nora found herself face to face with Maxson. “Holy fuck!” 

Maxson at least had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “The door wasn’t locked.”

“Doesn’t mean you should just walk right in!” Nora yelped, bracing herself against a desk for support. “How’d you even know I was here?” 

“I’m sorry for startling you-“ 

“You fucking should be!” 

Maxson was starting to scowl. “The… women… in the Working Girl told me that you were probably here.”

That figured. Esta and the others were a fountain for rumours and hearsay. Probably why Nick was always doing them favours. Nora narrowed her eyes. Maxson was in that nondescript jacket again. “I was really joking about working there, by the way.” 

“I know. I-“

“Though Julia and the others would be more than happy to wet your dick if you had three hundred caps.”

“Would you _let_ me speak,” Maxson snapped, though he flushed slightly at the reminder. “Paladin Danse came aboard the Prydwen to speak to me this morning. About you.” 

“What?” Nora thought back over the last few days hastily. She hadn’t went out on missions with Danse at all… unless… ah. “Ah. That.” 

“I wanted to make it very clear,” Maxson said slowly and stiffly, as though reading off a script in his head, “That I thought that you were fully willing, and not obligated-“

“Oh my God,” Nora groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to shoot some people in the _balls_.” Starting with Danse. Then maybe Deacon.

Maxson grimaced. “I don’t… I recognise that the circumstances were… perhaps very unusual but…” he exhaled irritably. “I was hoping this would be easier. After before.” 

He really _was_ too young. Nora smiled, tickled after all, even a little pleased. She still felt Nate’s loss like an uneven core within her, cold and ugly, and she wasn’t sure yet what to think about Shaun… but there was something flattering about the awkward attentions of a handsome young man regardless. Even if said young man tended to be an asshole more than half the time. To the rest of the world. 

“Arthur,” Nora said dryly. “I had fun. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but unfortunately, I couldn’t really care less about your special name, or your special rank, or your special friends. I’ve been up front with you from the start. I need the Brotherhood to help me with the Institute.” 

“I know that. And I’m… glad about that.”

“You were attracted to me because I didn’t give a damn about you?” Nora inquired, amused all over again. “Typical. Is this a guy thing? The unattainable?” 

Maxson’s flush was deepening, though this time he met her eyes evenly. “That’s not why I was… I don’t feel that…” He glanced away, glowering at the wall, clearly frustrated. “I thought this would be easier,” he said again, finally. 

Deciding to have some pity, Nora sidled over, trailing her hands up to Maxson’s shoulders, grinning slyly when his hands settled tentatively on her hips. The kiss was gentler than any before, suffused with wonderment rather than the hard edge of lust. Nora still had too much to do, so much further to go; in the scheme of all of her cares, this was a distraction. But it was… pleasant to have someone hold her like this, to kiss her like the world didn’t matter. 

“Better?” she murmured, when they broke for air. 

Maxson said nothing for a while, his breathing uneven, then he asked, “So what _do_ I have to do to get you on the Prydwen more often?” 

Nora grinned wickedly, curling her fingers in the lapels of his jacket, and tugging him towards her, walking them back towards the bed. “You’re just going to have to negotiate.”


	3. Air Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Submission, Mommy Kink

Arthur jerked in his chair, startled, when Nora stormed into his room and slammed the door shut behind her. He had been reading messages in his terminal, and now he rose from his desk, concerned. “Nora-“

“Did you guys lock Teagan in that cage because he’s such an asshole?” Nora hissed. “Maybe you should look into signposting that. Like. ‘Don’t Talk To This Asshole Unless You’re Selling A Fucking Gun’, in huge _fucking_ neon letters.” 

“What happened?” Arthur asked, frowning. “Did he say something to you that was out of line?” 

“He wanted me to ‘persuade’ some settlements to hand over their crops,” Nora snarled. “‘Any means necessary’, I do believe he said!” 

“Ah.” Arthur, to Nora’s astonishment, actually folded his arms across his chest, leaning a hip against his desk. “And you have an issue with following orders?” 

“I don’t believe this,” Nora said, incredulous. “You’re actually… _on board_ … with using force to get settlers to pay a tithe? What are you guys then, just a bunch of highly organised raiders?” 

“We are _not_ raiders,” Arthur said, through gritted teeth.

“Taking resources by force? That’s nothing more than armed robbery,” Nora pointed out, contemptuous. “It’s not right. Don’t you understand?”

“Negotiate something then. Many of these settlements are yours, I hear,” Arthur noted flatly. “Keeping an army well-supplied is key to maintaining discipline-“

“I can’t care _less_ about-“ 

“-and,” Arthur added sharply, “Maintaining _order_. Making sure that none of the vertibird patrols out there do anything more than what they set out to do. I’ve studied pre-war strategy. What happens when an occupying army is under-supplied? They pillage the land, don’t they? That’s the nature of the beast, no matter what colour it is. You might wish things worked otherwise. But I think it’s irresponsible to do anything less than work with how things _are_.”

Nora clenched her hands tightly. “Soldiers,” she said bitterly. “I know people have to be fed. I also know that some of my settlements are in surplus. However, this allergy that you people have to the very idea of consideration? Unacceptable.”

“If you want to come up with some sort of arrangement, bring it to me,” Arthur shot back. “I’m not against coming to an agreement. But if you’re expecting us to pay a market rate-“ 

“I’ve already duly adjusted my expectations on adequacy, let alone any concept of fairness,” Nora said coldly. “I’ll talk to the settlements closer to Boston Airport - and to the Minutemen and see what I can do.” She turned to go, only for Arthur to step quickly over and into her personal space, hauling her against him. His expression was sober, searching, arm curled around the small of her back, and Nora grit her teeth and fought the instinctive urge to knee Arthur in the dick. 

“You’re angry with me.”

“Amazing grasp of the obvious. _Outstanding_ ,” Nora said sarcastically. 

She watched grimly as Arthur visibly struggled with his temper. Nora had studied this once, when she was younger and convinced that a law degree would help her save the world: she had thrown herself into international law, human rights law, jurisprudence…In some ways, Arthur was a classic case of consequences. Children introduced to brutality early in their lives, who became _soldiers_ at such a tender age - often grew up to be damaged as adults, angry and violent, with a shaky sense of morality. Combine it with an electric charisma, like Arthur’s, and you got a recipe for disaster. 

_You can change the veneer, sweetheart,_ Nora’s mother once told her wryly, _But you can’t change the blueprint. So be careful who you love._ Nora didn’t love Arthur, not the way she had loved Nate, with the sweet blindness of youth, falling headlong into it together. This was worse. Here she was, eyes open, older, burned and wiser, and still she was in Arthur’s arms, her hands pressed over his chest, almost over his shoulders. Her feet were balanced freshly again on the edge, and she was circling the deep. This time, it would be a long way down. 

“I’ll speak to Teagan,” Arthur said finally, tightly. “I won’t authorise any ops against civilians. You’re right. We aren’t raiders. People like Paladin Danse were originally Wastelanders as well. It doesn’t make sense to antagonise the locals.”

“Good! Basic logic, achieved at last.” 

“But we do need supplies.”

“I know. I’ll think of something.” At the very least, even though he didn’t like the Brotherhood, Preston surely had to see that maintaining diplomatic ties to the main military force in the Capital Wasteland was a _good_ thing. 

“So are we. All right?” Arthur asked, uncertain. He’d certainly had other women before in his life, but somehow, Nora was fairly sure that none of the others had seen _this_ side of Arthur Maxson. He _was_ painfully young. 

“I’m going to have to think about that,” Nora said, unwilling to let go of her simmering sense of outrage, and Arthur sighed, exasperated. 

“You’re one of the most frustrating people I’ve ever met.”

“Why, do you think that I’m going to fall in bed with you after you make some sort of minor concession - one that you should have made _anyway_ , I should add?” Nora inquired mockingly. “I don’t think so, _little boy_.” 

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath at that, and even as Nora tensed up instinctively, she ended up blinking as she felt Arthur’s cock swell up against her, pressing low against her belly and- “Really?” Nora asked, amusement creeping in, poisoning her anger. Arthur started to flush, avoiding her eyes, frowning at her shoulder. “Seems to me,” Nora added flippantly, “That maybe the commanding officer should hold himself responsible when his minions piss someone off.” 

“You _are_ technically a Knight,” Arthur said dryly. 

“If I took _that_ seriously,” Nora raised her eyebrows, “I do recall something or other said about you and your dislike of ‘fraternising’.“

“Just because I don’t want someone in my bed because of my rank-“ 

“But you’re OK if it’s caps?” Nora asked, and smirked as Arthur pulled a face. “All right. Get on your knees, _boy_.”

Arthur stared at her for a moment, then he ducked his head and obeyed, holy hell, sinking down over the deck. Defiant as he looked, still so oddly poised, his back straight as a ruler - now Nora wanted to ruin Arthur, like this. They were already on that road. In bed, at least with her, Arthur was conscientious. Nora pressed her thumb to his mouth, then traced the wetted pad over the notched scar on his cheek, watched him shudder and close his eyes. She had never been like this with Nate, never even thought about it. In a way, Arthur was bringing out a part of Nora that she’d never noticed before. 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Nora said softly. “I think you’ve annoyed me enough for today by running your mouth. So I want you to shut up. Unless I do something that you don’t like,” she added. For a moment, she thought Arthur was going to argue, but instead, he simply nodded, if warily. “And maybe, at the end,” Nora drawled, more confidently, “We’ll do something about this.” She pressed the toe of her boot against the tent in Arthur’s breeches, and he gasped. 

So far, so good. Nora could feel herself getting damp, as she slid her Silver Shroud coat off her shoulders, folding it over Arthur’s chair, then her scarf. She didn’t bother trying to shuck her clothes teasingly, but the weight of Arthur’s avid stare was palpable between them, his lips parting slightly as she tugged off her boots and removed her rifle holster, leaving it beside his terminal. When Nora got her breeches and underwear off, leaving only her button-up blouse, she heard Arthur suck in an audible gulp. 

And hell. It was _fun_ like this, this sort of power. It made Nora slink over, press her fingers into Arthur’s mouth, watching as he sucked, got them wet; it made her chuckle, low and husky, the way Arthur groaned as she used slicked fingers to touch herself, stroking herself open. Arthur’s hands clenched and twitched over his thighs, his breathing growing heavier, urgent. He could probably smell her, and by the way Arthur was leaning forward a fraction, like a hunting dog kept barely at bay, Nora knew he wanted to taste her. 

“Wonder who taught you to like that,” Nora said breathlessly, her free hand braced against Arthur’s shoulder. “Who taught you how to please a woman? Should send her flowers.” Arthur made a low, strangled groan. “I like you like this,” she added, drawing out her fingers with an audibly wet sound, swiping the slick against his mouth, grinning as Arthur licked thirstily after her. “ _Good_ boy.” 

“Nora, please,” Arthur gasped.

“Told you not to talk,” Nora said severely. “Maybe you shouldn’t piss me off any further, hm? I could walk.” Arthur whined, strained, and Nora relented a little. “But I see what you want,” she conceded, and backed up, grinning slyly, until her shoulders hit the metal hull, lapping her own fingers clean, smirking as Arthur’s eyes widened, dilating. “Come here, boy. On your knees.” 

For a moment she wasn’t sure if Arthur would do it: he froze up - and then he ducked his head, and… hell was freezing over right now, Nora decided breathlessly, as Arthur _obeyed_ , crawling over on his hands and knees. When he got close enough, she hitched one thigh over his shoulders and pulled his head closer, purring as Arthur nosed against her inner thigh, then licked a wet stripe up over her clit, groaning, his beard scraping against her skin, then he started to suck greedily at her folds. Jesus. Arthur was _good_ at this and he knew it, licking into her, moaning as she ground down against his face. 

By the time Nora had come a second time, keening, arched against the hull with Arthur’s fingers stroking inside her, her legs were starting to shake, and she could barely stay upright as she drew back to admire the effect. Arthur on his knees, blinking and dazed, beard and face wet from her pleasure, choking out a gasp as Nora pressed a foot between his legs, her ankle rubbing up against the straining bulge in his breeches. “Go on, kid,” Nora drawled, smirking, and Arthur flushed even more darkly, bracing a hand against the hull and grinding himself against her leg, open-mouthed, eyes squeezed shut, until he finally stiffened up and slumped against her, panting hard. 

Nora petted Arthur’s short, spiky hair, murmuring nonsense soothing words, until he abruptly pulled himself up on shaky feet, wincing, stumbling as she grinned at him and pulled him over for a kiss. Maybe she couldn’t change the blueprint. But with some luck, she could add to it, sand off some of the rough edges, work something out. Nora already had enough destruction and heartbreak in her life. There had to be another way.


End file.
